


Therefore I Am

by yours_eternally



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Hand Jobs, Hospital Sex, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Priest Kink, Religion Kink, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: And now it was less than 24 hours later and Chris was sitting beside Ricky’s hospital bed holding his hand and smiling with his eyes teary. And he’s dressed like a fucking priest.Ricky's in hospital recovering from an aborted suicide attempt, and Chris has thought of an ingenious way to pay him a visit.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15
Collections: yours_eternally's Personal Prompt Meme





	Therefore I Am

‘This way, Father.’

‘Thank you.’

Ricky glances up as the door to his room is opened and he sees the duty nurse leading someone in. It’s too late for visitors and the doctor on the evening shift has been in to check on him already. Ricky’s mouth falls open as he sees who’s followed the nurse into the room. The man is tall, dressed in black and _familiar._

‘Take as long as you need, Father,’ the nurse says, smiling kindly and turning to leave the room. Ricky stares at the man in the chair. Because it’s Chris. It’s fucking _Chris._ With a sober expression, and the dog collar he’s worn for Halloween that year. He’d even gelled his hair back. Ricky can practically feel his eyes standing out on stalks. Even if it’s the weirdest fucking thing he’s ever seen, Chris looks kind of good. Or maybe that’s the pain meds. 

‘What are you _doing?_ ’ Ricky hisses, glancing to the door behind him to check the nurse has retreated down the corridor. Chris is smiling at him, eyes running over him like he’s trying to memorise every inch. 

‘I called earlier,’ Chris says, voice low as he talks excitedly, ‘and they said only family could come in and y’know you said you family was religious so I thought—’

‘You’d impersonate a _priest?_ ’ Ricky squeaks incredulous, ‘—why didn’t you say you were my fucking brother, dude? I would have backed you up.’ From the expression of dawning comprehension on his face, Ricky can tell the simplest solution had never even occurred to Chris. Ricky lets out a slow breath. _Fucking hell._ This entire scenario is so ridiculous. 

Ricky shakes his head. Chris is looking at him worriedly, worried he’s made it worse. Ricky softens his expression, sighing out another breath and smiling at him. He guesses that’s the good thing about his whole fucked up mess of a life — it doesn’t get any worse than this. 

‘And I didn’t say my family was religious — I said they thought Jesus could cure my depression,’ Ricky says, mouth twitching, ‘so… you can see how well that’s going.’ 

Ricky lifts his bandaged wrist and Chris’ eyes snap to it and then away as if the white bandage is somehow repugnant. _Here we go,_ Ricky thinks as he watches Chris look down at where his hands are folded in his lap. _Here’s the worse part._ The crying and the questions. The _how could you do this?_ The _you were such a happy child._ As if being gay, and skinny, and into music had made for a wonderful Highschool experience. As if Ricky hadn’t all but had the fight squashed out of him by the time he got to college and met Chris. 

Chris still isn’t looking at him but Ricky sees his shoulders shaking. He’s never seen Chris cry before. _Yet another thing to feel guilty for._ Ricky huffs out another breath but then he realises something. Chris is biting the sides of his mouth to stop it curving, his eyes are completely dry and, when he glances up to Ricky at last, it’s obvious he can barely prevent himself from bursting into laughter. 

Something about his desperate face, flushed with the effort to keep in the inappropriate laughter, sets Ricky off. And a bubble of laughter rises up in his chest and he can’t keep it in. As soon as he starts he can’t stop and Chris can’t keep it in any longer until they’re both shaking with hard gasping laughter. Chris has both hands clamped over his mouth to keep the sound in as Ricky quivering so hard from trying to keep himself quiet his ribs hurt. Chris is hunched over, head sinking onto Ricky’s mattress as he convulses with giggles. 

‘I’m so fucking glad you’re not dead, Rick,’ Chris manages to choke out at last. He turns to look at Ricky, head still on the bed. His eyes are wet now. Ricky nods, swallowing. 

‘So am I,’ Ricky says, reaching out to slip his fingers under Chris’ hand where it is on the bed. 

‘Yeah?’ Chris says looking at Ricky as he sits up, closing his hand around Ricky’s. 

‘Yeah,’ Ricky says, ‘I… I’m glad.’ Chris squeezes his hand and Ricky bites his lip. He hasn’t said this to anyone yet. He’s too angry and too upset with his family to explain himself. To say that it had hurt so much more than he’d expected. To say that the blood had panicked him. To say there was no relief. 

He hadn’t known what to do. He’d just wanted to somehow _will_ his skin back together so he’d never have to tell anyone about it. So he'd never have to say what he’d done. In the end he’d called his dorm’s RA. He couldn’t really remember what he’d said, sitting on his bed soaking through a towel. They’d screamed when they’d come in and Ricky couldn’t remember much after that. 

He hadn’t wanted to call Chris. He hadn’t wanted Chris to see him like that. So he’d text — when he was sure he wasn’t actually going to die (and they’d given him his phone back) — guessing it would be worse for him to hear the rumours. 

And now it was less than 24 hours later and Chris was sitting beside Ricky’s hospital bed holding his hand and smiling with his eyes teary. And he’s dressed like a fucking priest.

Ricky relaxes back against his pillows. The laugh had done him some good, like a cathartic cry. And as he looks at Chris (and the _stupid_ collar) he can feel his body warming up for what feels like the first time in forever. They’d slept together a couple of times, and spent more time in each other’s rooms than apart, though they’re not officially dating. But the last couple of months have not been good, and Ricky can’t actually remember the last time he’d felt Chris’ skin against his. 

‘What are you thinking about?’ Chris says, frowning at Ricky’s smirk. Ricky shrugs. 

‘Nothing,’ he says, then he wets his lips and lets out another soft chuckle, ‘you look like… _good._ Must be something repressed, huh?’ he laughs more but Chris is eyeing him. 

‘Oh, you like this?’ Chris asks, slipping his longest finger under the collar and Ricky giggles, flushing. 

‘Kind.. kinda,’ he admits at last, blushing under Chris’ steady gaze. Chris is grinning now too.

‘That’s okay,’ he says, leaning over him, hand on his thigh to kiss Ricky gently. Ricky kisses back shyly. His whole body feels like it’s thrumming, skin sparking with the warmth of Chris’ closeness. Ricky makes a soft noise, pulling back. Chris sits back too.

‘Sorry, you don’t want—’ he says, the worried expression on his face again, ‘of course, I shouldn’t—’ 

‘I do want,’ Ricky says, ‘just like… let’s _lock the door?_ ’ Chris blinks at him and then his words seem to go in and Chris nods, stumbling up. He peeks into the corridor to check it’s empty before closing and locking the door, twisting to blinds until they’re completely closed. 

Ricky sits up a bit when Chris comes back to sit down. 

‘So,’ he starts, eyes running over Ricky, ‘—you wanna confess?’ Ricky snorts.

‘Dude, that’s not—’ he laughs, shaking his head, ‘that’s not what you do.’ 

‘Sure it is,’ Chris says, sliding his hand onto Ricky’s thigh again. Ricky laughs more as Chris pulls him in to kiss again. Ricky puts his hands on his shoulders, not wanting to grip too hard as it makes his wrist ache. He can feel Chris’ hand, burning through the sheets, resting on his bare thigh, so close to where he wants it. Ricky moans softly into his mouth and feels Chris grin. 

‘ _Mm,_ ’ Chris says, ‘so can I touch your dick?’ Ricky nods, wriggling his hips forward as Chris spits in his palm and slips it under the hospital sheets. Ricky moans more when Chris gets a hand into his underwear. Ricky shudders when Chris fits his hand around his dick, suddenly so fucking hard he can barely breathe. 

He takes a shuddering breath as Chris starts to stroke him. Ricky moans. He’s definitely weirdly oversensitive and Chris’ hand feels so good he can barely keep himself still, hips rocking up into him from the mattress. 

‘ _Yeah,_ ’ Chris mumbles, kissing along his jaw, ‘—c’mon.’ Ricky whines, thighs quivering as his back arches. Chris pulls back a little, lips rubbed red and pupils blown wide. He catches Ricky’s jaw, fingers curling gently but firm. 

‘Look me,’ he says, voice low, ‘—look at me, Rick. Look here.’ He lifts his chin so Ricky’s eyes flick to the collar and Ricky feels himself shudder. This is so fucking _wrong,_ is all he can think as his pulse throbs through his cock. 

‘Fuck _yeah,_ ’ Chris says, keep a hold of Ricky’s chin as he whines, squirming and fucking himself hard into Chris’ palm. Chris slips his thumb into his mouth, giving him something to suck and sink his teeth into as he writhes. 

It only takes a couple more rough thrusts of his hips before he’s coming, his entire body contracting around the hand Chris has on him. He moans, slurred and muffled by Chris’ thumb. The orgasm is so intense it’s almost painful and leaves him panting, with a pulse throbbing behind his eyes and in the still fresh wound on his wrist. 

‘Fuck,’ he gasps out when Chris has carefully removed his hands. Chris kisses the side of his mouth, going into the bathroom to retrieve a towel to wipe him down before he can put a stain he’ll have to explain on the sheets. Chris kisses him again, pulling his underwear back into place and pulling up the sheets like nothing has happened, though they’re both flushed and panting.

They look at each other and Chris covers his mouth, grinning. 

‘I’m gonna open a window,’ he says and Ricky laughs, knowing they both must smell of sweat and sex. Chris sits back down, elbows on the mattress. 

‘So c’mon,’ he says, ‘—what channels have they got in this place?’ Ricky snorts, reaching to hand him the remote. He snuggles further back into the bed as Chris chats to him, thumb absently stroking over his knuckles, and flicks through channels. And for that moment, Ricky’s so fucking glad Chris is there with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-post from [tumblr](https://xyours-eternallyx.tumblr.com/post/635863207795376128/wait-i-wanna-read-the-depressing-fic-in-the)
> 
> Technically this was a present for Mx Haunted but I thought it was a bit miserable for a Christmas present.. so now I've written something _much_ worse 😅


End file.
